This special blog was created for dedicated readers who crave for more sexy, can't-get-you-out-of-my-head romance stories after having read the much publicized books about wealthy men and their love interests. Come meet the new, irresistible alpha billionaires in my crafty novels that are full of twists and turns and heart-felt endings. They're rich, powerful, domineering, sexy, and "sweet".
(Warning: contents may be inappropriate for readers under 18 years old.)

Sunday, April 28, 2013

An unexplained epidemic of local sick children pours
into the hospital, causing chaotic panic among the staff. Every room is completely occupied but the
number of ill children continues to grow.
They’re vomiting and dry heaving unremittingly without any relief. The awful smells and sounds are foul enough to make me gag my insides out. But there is no time for weak stomachs. I run around frantically attending to the
ones who are helplessly waiting for assistance. It brings overwhelming tears to my eyes
seeing so many young babies and children crying in pain and discomfort. The agonizing expressions on their faces are
unbearable to witness. I hate to see anyone cry in pain, especially children. I want to gather
every one of them into my arms and heal them immediately, take their suffering
away. I pick up a feeble infant boy
who struggles to give out dim whimpering sounds. Both of his parents are sobbing. Their hearts are heavy with
concern. I hug him tightly in my arms
and say a silent prayer while holding back my own tears. “God, please help me cure all these innocent
babies.” I open my eyes, gather my strength and lead them down a congested hallway.

To my astonishment and disbelief, I see Mr.
Bradley among a crowd of wailing people with his IV pole kindly assisting a family of three young
children. He generously offers them his private room. He tenderly kneels down to one of the little girl and wipes her tears. She grants him an uplifting smile, reaches for his hand and holds onto it. He receives her gesture with delight.Why is this arrogant, self-centered man being compassionate? I’m confused.
My heart is even more confused. The
only thing I’m certain about is I can no longer deny my feelings for him. Coincidentally at that very moment, he affectionately looks directly into my tearful eyes. His
expression is warm and sympathetic. He sees
right through my hard armor and directly into my heart. I break our intense gaze and mouth, “Thank
you!” He rewards me with his
heart-wrenching smile and playfully salutes me with his right hand.

I call Amelia and Richard, who are both assigned to
the same hospital thirty minutes from here, for reinforcement. They came as soon as they completed their scheduled
shifts. I’m ecstatic and relieved to
see them. I need all the help I can
gather. I briefly introduce them to Mr.
Bradley. Richard is reserved and cautious when he shakes
his hand, while Amelia is her amicable bubbly self. We divided into six teams and eventually
stabilized all the children by late evening.

It has been a long and exhausting evening. We’re all completely drained and ready to
crash. I want nothing else but to fall
into my bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. The idea is pampering but impossible. I could never afford the luxury of wasting
that many hours on sleep. I’m constantly
committed to classes, studying and hospital rotations. As we walk around the corner to the main hospital
entrance, I spot Mr. Bradley wearing ceil blue hospital scrubs speaking to
someone on the phone. He has a troubled expression
on his face. I jealously wonder who he’s
talking to…maybe a girlfriend. And why am I jealous? Argh...I'm frustrated with myself. I wave
him over to our direction once he finished his call. His expression lightens up.

“Mr. Bradley, do you have a place to stay for the
night since you kindly gave up your room?
You’re more than welcome to come back with us. Even though you’re stable, it wouldn’t hurt
to have medical staff at an arm’s reach.” I unexpectedly offer him. I see both Richard and Amelia’s faces in
complete shock.

“Thank you for your generous offer, Dr. Ly. I would really appreciate a place for tonight
since my housing arrangements are not ready for this evening.” The arrogant jerk I talked to several hours
ago has seemed to disappear and is replaced with this more agreeable charming
man.

“You can stay with me.” Richard hesitantly offers. I’m not surprise that he volunteers his
place. He must’ve sensed my attraction
to Mr. Bradley and wants to keep the distance between us. I don’t blame Richard for his ill feelings
towards him. I had assured Richard from
the beginning that I have no room for romance and now, I’m obviously lusting
over another man in front of him. I have to admit it’s a
better option for him to stay with Richard anyways. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing Mr.
Bradley is merely steps away from me. I don't trust my irrepressible hormones.

He drives off with Richard and I catch a ride with
Amelia back to our dormitory. Amelia
questions me relentlessly about Mr. Bradley.
“What is going on between you and this handsome Mr. Bradley? I've never seen you this animated around a
man before.” Am I that obvious?

“I don’t know what you’re implying? I’m just trying to be gracious to a homeless
man.” I unconvincingly deny.

“I’ll drop it for tonight because we are both dog tired,
but I will need answers from you tomorrow, alright?” She narrows her eyes sideways at me. I nod my head to appease her.

We all arrived at the dormitory at the same
time. The air in the elevator is unbelievably
thick as soon as the doors close and seal the four of us in. I refrain from looking directly at Mr.
Bradley but fail to avoid indulging my eyes at his handsome reflections from
the stainless steel doors in front of us.
I see Richard’s impassive expression from the reflection as well. No one opens their mouth, not even to
breathe, it seems. This is by far my
longest elevator ride up to the tenth floor.
The doors finally open. We single
file out. Women first and then the men
follow behind. Mr. Bradley unconsciously
places his palm at my lower back to courteously guide me out. His brief touch sends an ardent yearning
sensation throughout my body but I shake it off promptly. I can’t lose my control in front of everyone,
especially Richard.

“Good night.”
I softly bid him.

“Good night, Dr. Ly.” He responds with searching eyes. I quickly evade them. I’ve already made it this far. I can’t fail now.

Richard leads Mr. Bradley in the direction of his
room. He’s not happy about sharing his
place or his girl with this man. I can clearly see it in his sulking
eyes. I steal several more irresistible glimpses
of Mr. Handsome Bradley to add to my mental portfolio of him. Amelia catches me but she’s too tired to
wrestle for answers. I’m sure she will
not let me off the hook this easily tomorrow.
I better prepare myself for her many inquisitions. But the second I enter my room, I plunge into my
bed from extreme exhaustion. I didn’t
even have enough energy to dream about Mr. Bradley. Well...maybe just a little one...

***Pictures are not mine. They're shared via Pinterest. The actor/model is NOT affiliated with this book. The characters are fictional.***

This is the last chapter I will share with all of you. I hope that you've enjoyed reading the unedited version and will want to continue reading the remaining story when it becomes available via e-book. I'm aiming for July 2013. I will keep you posted via this blog.

Continue following this blog for sexy excerpts from further chapters. The suspense at the end will make you want to read book 2 ;)

Thursday, April 25, 2013

I nervously walk towards him…the man I’ve been
having illicit dreams about is now staring deeply into my paralyzed eyes with his
own enslaving hazel green eyes. He looks
confident, stern and controlled. His
mind seems preoccupied. I think he’s
studying me and determining if I’m professionally capable of managing his
care. Maybe he thinks I’m too young and
inexperienced. I give him one confident
smile and avoid his inquiring eyes. The
last thing I want is for him to validate my attraction to him. My eyes would undoubtedly deceive me.

He doesn’t embrace me with a smile. But for some odd reason, this makes him even
more incredibly attractive to me, in a distinguished way. I notice his bountiful undulating dark brown hair
is now neatly groomed and his flawless chiseled face is also freshly shaven. I visually trace the length of his masculine
jaw line to his charming boyish one-sided dimple. God, he’s hot! I obliviously bite on my thumb nail without
thinking. He follows my finger with his severe
eyes. I’m caught. I nervously remove it and bite on my lower
lip. I evade his meticulous eyes and
focus on his full luscious lips which are pressed firmly together. Deja-vu thoughts of him licking his lower lips
flash through my mind. I’m reminded of
our ambulance ride and how lustful he made me feel then as well as now. “Cut it out!”
I caution myself.

Mr. Bradley is much taller sitting upright. I speculate he’s probably over six feet…dominantly
towering over me. He is undeniably one of
the sexiest men I've ever seen. Of course, I already
secretly know how tone and perfectly muscular his body is underneath that
hospital gown. Holy shit, I’m losing it again.
What’s the matter with me? I have to shake these craving thoughts out of
my idiotic head. He needs to see me as a
professional medical resident not some ogling admirer. Unfortunately, the weight of his continuous
stare hinders my focus even further. I
encourage myself to quickly peruse his medical chart and gather the information
I need to provide a quick assessment. Mystery
man now has a real name. Carson Bradley,
born May 31, 1980…how coincidental, we have the same birth day but he’s ten
years my senior.

“Hello Mr. Bradley, I’m Dr. Ly, your assistant
medical resident. I will be working
under the guidance of Dr. Stanford to help accelerate your recovery here at
this hospital. Besides for a few minor
bruises and mild dehydration, you are fortunate to have survived your mishap in
that frightful storm. Do you have any
questions or concerns for me?”

I inform him in my most authoritative voice. His confidence in my professional abilities
is invaluable to me. I expect him to look
beyond my youth and not equate it with inexperience. He takes my hand and shakes it firmly as if he’s
sealing a business transaction. His touch
stimulates all my senses and confirms my desires for him are indisputably real. Our hands remain together for longer than a
customary handshake so I regretfully remove mine before my uncontrollable
hormones expose me. The tingling sensation from our touch still lingers
on my hand.

“First of all, thank you for saving me and for your
professional care. I will be forever in
your debt, Dr. Ly.”

His penetrating eyes command my attention, but I’m
afraid to look into them. They remain
fixed on me regardless. Oh shit, his
deep manly voice is as sexy as the rest of him.
I’m utterly doomed.

“Mr. Bradley, it’s my duty to care for all wounded
and sick people. You don’t owe me
anything.” I pray my confident voice
will not disappoint me as I respond.

“Then will you please tell me how much longer I
will be detained here? I’m a busy man. It’s imperative for me to leave as soon as
possible to handle pressing business matters back home.” He continues to stare at me with studious
eyes. “I have people waiting for me. I can’t waste any more time being stuck here.” His considerate tone is now completely
arrogant and demanding. He transforms
into a conceited asshole within minutes.

Initially, I am taken back by his haughty response
and attitude. However, I’m relieved to see
this unattractive side of him. I was completely
accurate about my stereotyping of his kind.
The lustful trance he has over me sizzles out instantly, yielding overflowing
steam from my simmering anger. I have an
urgent need to run out of this room and leave him behind as quickly as possible. I glare at him with my eyes sideways and
slightly narrowed.

“I do not detain anyone here against their will. As soon as I complete your vitals and if they
are satisfactory, I will release you by the end of today. You can tend to your pressing and personal needs
then, Mr. Bradley.” I reply harshly
through gritted teeth.

He’s stunned from my abrasiveness but also seems
amused at the same time. There’s a
visible smirk on his face even though he fails miserably to conceal it. Does he think this is funny? I don’t find anything amusing about his
arrogance. I’m fuming with irritation. I assume he’s unfamiliar with women being
this forthright and challenging with him. He’s probably accustomed to them surrendering to his every beckoning needs and commands.
In other words, kiss his egotistical ass. I
am not that type of woman. I don’t kiss
anyone’s ass.

“Dr. Ly, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I hope I didn’t offend you.” There’s remorse in his tone. I blatantly ignore his apologize.

His beseeching green eyes may be slightly convincing.
But at this point, I don’t give a crap
about what he utters out of his mouth and stomp out hastily. As soon as I’m far enough away from his room
and out of his view, I puff out an irascible breath. I lean my shaken body against the supportive
wall behind me in hope of regaining my balance.
“What an arrogant and ungrateful son of a bitch…I can’t believe I was
fantasizing about you!” I angrily scold myself. This is why I can’t allow any men into my
life. They’re too complicated. I reclaim my composure and collectedly continue
with the rest of my hospital rounds.

Carson

Damn, no woman has ever dared to confront me like
that. I was already taken by her beauty
and intelligence but her spit fire and strong will makes her even more
irresistible to me. How can I possibly think
clearly with that seductive ruffled expression on her stunning face? If only she would allow me to take her into
my arms and seal my eager lips over hers, she would know how much I desire her. She has a sexy habit of biting her lower lip
when she’s crossed as well as nervous. Christ,
she’s making me hard for her without trying or knowing. I’m forcing every fiber in my body to fight
my attraction for her. It’s driving me insane
that I’m unable to control my own emotions.

I’m tired and bored of willing women telling me
what I want to hear. I never know what’s
really going through their minds because they’re in constant fear of how I might
react to their honesty. I crave deep
conversations with real opinions and sentiments.
I love her brutal emotional honesty.
It initiates an intense purpose for me to want her, in a determined way.
But what the hell am I saying? I thought I’ve already convinced myself to
leave her alone. This is why I’m deliberately
arrogant and curt with her. I'm intentionally
pushing her away from me with my better judgment even though I don’t want to. I'm torn, especially after seeing her upset because of me.

I will only end up breaking her heart because I’m incapable
of loving anyone. “Don’t be a selfish
bastard!” I reprimand myself. “Let her be! She deserves better.” But why is my heart triggered by her?I’m more alive than I’ve ever been in years. What should I do? I have to distance myself from her, the sooner the better. The tough challenge is to somehow secure
my thoughts and desires for her until Owen picks me up. I’m not sure this is possible for me… ***The pictures are NOT mine! They're shared via Pinterest. The actor/model are NOT affiliated with this fictional story.***

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

I’m completely spent from my restless night of
sleep. I repose in the comfort of his
protective arms utterly sated from our carnal night of lovemaking. I immediately reminisce about the multiple
orgasms we enjoyed together…

As I fervently lay prone over a decadent down pillow, he leisurely walks his two fingers up the back of my ticklish legs. I’m wearing nothing but a delicate black lacy thong. The sensual taps of his fingertips lure dormant
cravings deep within my body. His
fingers suddenly stop at my upper inner thighs, purposely coaxing more intense desires
for him. It's effective. I want and shamelessly beg for more. He proceeds with wispy feathery kisses along
the middle of my lower back. My body
squirms pleasurably underneath him. He slowly
parts my thighs and slides the thin lace material to one side for full access to my velvet
lips. With every slow touch of his
fingertips along my sensitive skin, moisture gathers and I desperately yearn
for him to take me. He sensually places his
two fingers over my moistened sweet spot and begins a soothing circular
massage. The rhythmic motion sends me
almost completely over the edge. He has
an approving expression on his face, watching me fall apart under his control.

It's apparent to him that my body craves more. He gently rolls me onto my back with the same
pillow propping my pelvis up. He
continues his sexual taunting with his skillful tongue as he places his head
between my unsteady bent knees. And at
the same time, he also caresses and kneads my breasts with his free hand. The arousing motion and pressure of his warm
tongue and two fingers circling inside me provokes an explosive orgasm. I moan and pant pleasurably. He's pleased.

I hear my loud voice moaning over and
over again…but now it sounds more like buzzing…oh shit, it’s my damn alarm clock! I fight hard to open my rebellious eyes. I don’t want my pleasure to end. But unfortunately, I have to succumb to reality. And the harsh reality is discovering that I was having an erotic dream of my mystery man, alone in my bed.

I'm already
struggling to stay focused in my first class as snippets of my vivid and lustful
dream dominate my unsettled mind. Nothing can penetrate
my sinful obsession. I can’t stop seeing his handsome face and
imagining his delicious lips and hands all over my body. Ugh…this will be a dreadfully long day for
me. How can I think about pathology at a
time like this? I’m angry with myself
for not being able to concentrate and for allowing this mystery man, who I know
absolutely nothing about, to dramatically influence me this way. “This crazy fixation has to end
immediately!” I scold myself. I can’t allow
anything or anyone to interfere with my academic goals.

After I harshly lecture myself over the importance
of regaining control of my raging hormones, I was much more productive in my remaining
two classes. I’m thankful Amelia and
Richard did not detect my neurotic state of mind. How can I explain any of this to them when I
don’t have a rational explanation for myself? I
temporarily muffle this foolishness. The
question is how long will I be able to repress it? I’m hoping to hang on until after our first encounter.

Carson

Ouch, I feel an unfamiliar sting in my right arm as
I push my body up from a reclined position.
“Where the hell am I?” I look
around to search for any clues or answers.
I am hooked up to an IV pump and wearing a damn hospital gown with no boxers. My ass is bared to all who enters my room.

The last thing I remembered was apprehensively jumping
out of my private jet in the middle of a severe, blinding, tropical rainstorm. Captain
Franco announced that we would have to make an emergency landing on the turbulent
water. I frightfully jumped into the
dangerous infinite depths of violent waves.
My body immediately surged remotely away from Owen and the inflated
raft. I yelled out in hope of seizing his attention. There was no response from any direction. I was on my own. Initially, I courageously swam for
my life but it was pointless. There was
no way to cut through the darkness of that desolate night. I might as well have been a helpless blind man
in a panther’s den. Eventually, I gave
up my useless swimming and played it smart by reserving my energy. The crashing waves continue to beat forcibly against
me as I drifted for many long torturous hours with the help of my life
jacket.

I was fearful of not being discovered before the
unknown depths of the water would take my life.
I thought of Bianca, my fiancée of one year, who was anxiously waiting
for me to wed her on the island of St. Maarten.
Even in the possible final hours of my life, I still had strong reservations
about marrying her. I had wished for love to enter my loveless life hours
before this trip. This wasn’t exactly how I
imagine love would reenter my life. And then there was the thought of losing all my
years of cancer research if I was swallowed up by this vast body of water. This daunting thought was by far more
terrifying than dying. I had to fight to
remain alive for the sake of my work. I had millions of people's lives riding on my survival.

The endless blindness of night finally lifted only to expose to the excruciating heat and scorching sun. My throat was parched and my lips were painfully
chapped with blisters. Though I was completely surrounded by water, I
wasn’t able to drink a single salty drop of it.This was the worst form of torture. I only survived
the horrific night just to suffer the beating heat from above. I wasn't sure how much longer I would last. But just when I thought my time
here on earth was up, I spotted dry land from a near distance. I thought I might be hallucinating, but I didn’t care. I desperately swam towards it with whatever
remaining life I had left in me. I
dragged my lifeless body onto the beach and reached out for help, a foot…

______________________________________

A blushing young nurse walks into my room and my
recollections are abruptly interrupted.
She timidly introduces herself, barely makes any eye contact and begins
assessing my vitals. I remain compliant
to allow her to complete her tasks and then fire my questions at her all at
once. She informs me that I was brought
to this hospital by a medical resident who found me on the beach unconscious. She also mentions the hospital has done
everything to keep my case confidential which I am very pleased to hear. The last thing I need is the damn paparazzi
coming here to destroy this hospital’s peacefulness and my personal privacy. I deal with plenty of their shit back in the
states. I decide to keep my anonymous identity
for a while longer and give her just the minimal details she needs to complete
her medical charting. I begin with my
name and date of birth, “Carson Bradley, 32, born May 31, 1980.”

I don’t want to be anything but lazy today which is
abnormal and uncharacteristic of me. I only want to bask in the radiant sunbeams shining through the far west window. My recovering body and mind are uninhibitedly
immersed in the warmth and glow of the sun.
It’s therapeutic for me. My mind
is free of any stress or obligations.
I’m almost at the center of my tranquility when careful sounds of docile
footsteps enter my room and halt me in my mental track.

I glance over my right shoulder for a glimpse of my
new visitor. I suddenly feel an
unfamiliar tug in my chest as my body hardens into marble under her boundless beautiful
presence. Why is my heart racing so rapidly? I am instantly mesmerized by
the delicate, feminine features of her slender and youthful face. There’s a mysterious hint of exoticness about
her, possibly Asian or Hawaiian. She has
the most captivating and distinctive glimmering light russet brown eyes covered
with naturally, dark, thick lashes. I
find myself hypnotized by them. Her fair complexion is slightly kissed by the
golden sun in all the desirable places, on the tip of her dainty nose and cheek bones. Only by sheer will power am I able to keep my
distance and not reach out to touch her soft glowing skin. Her silky, dark, chestnut colored hair is
neatly tied back in a single long ponytail which enhances her professional
appearance. I can’t resist imagining how
sweet her full rosy lips would taste upon my own and her gorgeous smile…what
model wouldn’t kill to have that stunning smile. I think my mind would forsake me if she
would’ve granted me more than just one perfect smile.

She is well above average height. Her svelte body is hidden under her over-sized
professional white lab jacket. If I have
to guess her age, I would say mid-twenties because of her academic level but
she’s obviously younger in appearance. She
seems coy and innocent as I continue to steal glimpses of her unblemished
beauty. I have a burning impulse inside
me to study her for longer than the few seconds she grants me to gaze into her deep
brown eyes. Everything about her is extraordinary
to me. I attempt to memorize every remarkable detail about
her without detection. Her hair is
parted to the right. There’s an adorable tiny mole underneath her left eye. If you blink, you would miss it because it’s unnoticeable,
but not for me. She bites on her thumb
nail or lower lip when she’s nervous. She’s
left handed and wears no rings on any of her fingers. I’m selfishly pleased with her unmarried
status. I'm smiling on the inside while hiding it on the outside. Shit, I feel embarrassed for
losing myself in her presence. I hope
it’s not apparent. My unexplainable attraction
to her is beyond my usual discipline. This peeves me because I'm normally in charge of every situation in my life. How
is it possible for me to be this intensely drawn to this young woman? We’ve only met just a few minutes ago and
we haven’t uttered a single word to each other.
Why is she distinctive from all the other women? Is it gratitude I’m feeling for saving my
life or is my heart finally telling me to wake up?

I lost Emily, my high school sweetheart, to Hodgkin’s
Lymphoma at the tender age of seventeen.
With her suffering and death, she took my heart and I haven’t loved or
cared for any woman since then. I know
we were young but the love I had for her was real. My heart hasn’t felt
that way for anyone else until now. Sure,
I’ve been with many beautiful women but at the end of the day, I was left
feeling empty and alone. This is
probably why they only lasted a few weeks to several months. I grew tired of trying to find love when it
didn’t exist for me. It was impossible to
replace Emily.

Bianca served as my longest void companion. I honestly never loved her. I was coerced and brainwashed by my mother to
settle down. She couldn't handle the idea of me being unhappy and alone for the rest of my life. She relentlessly worked on me for two years
before I finally surrendered to her wishes. “Please Carson. I’m not getting any younger. I want grand-babies.” She would plead every opportunity she had with
me. I finally caved in a year ago and
agreed to marry Bianca to make my mother happy, not me.

It would be narcissistic of me to expect this rare
young beauty to give my vacant heart a chance when so many women have
hopelessly tried and failed. How cruel
and selfish of me to even consider subjecting her to my loveless world? I mustn’t allow myself to pursue her. I would only end up killing her pureness and
innocence if I fail to love her…

***Pictures are NOT mine. They're shared from Pinterest. The actors/models are not affiliated with my book. The story is fictional.

Monday, April 22, 2013

My first semester has swiftly
flown by. But I can’t say it has been an easy breeze either. I’ve had my share of
headaches and sleepless nights. I knew
the academic demands would be challenging but when long hours of hospital
rotations are added to this mad equation, the pressure is multiplied by tenfold. I pray that I will be able to endure the
remaining long years ahead.

On my non-hospital
rotation weekends, I spoil myself with visits to the local botanical gardens or
walks along the fine white sandy beaches.
It doesn’t sound too exciting for most people my age but it’s my
ordinary way to cope with stress. While
walking the length of a beach one vacant Saturday, I discovered a secluded spot
just a few miles away from the dormitory.
I was destined to stumble upon. This
place is hardly or never occupied by vacationers or locals. It’s my secret retreat for studying or just
relaxing my overstressed mind and body. The
area is cleverly hidden by colossal coral-covered rock boulders with sharp
rugged surfaces. Shady palm trees naturally
grow in all the right places, allowing the brilliant sunlight to perfectly
strike only certain areas.

After
such a crazy-ass week of finals and extended late hours at the hospital, I’m more
than ready to visit my secret hide-away.
I pack a small picnic lunch, my iPod and a cozy flannel beach blanket
and head out by myself. I feel somewhat guilty
about not sharing this exclusive spot with Amelia and Richard but I figure they
can find their own special place.

I
neatly lay my blanket over the soft powdery sand to forge a beach bed under two
shady palm trees. No oversized umbrella is
needed. I shuffle through my iPod’s
playlist for Relaxation Music and tap
Play.
Enya’s angelic voice is undeniably soothing. I lazily lower my stressful body down and close
my over-fatigued eyes. “Ah… this is the
life.” My arms and legs stretch out freely,
enjoying the cool-humid breeze. I
convince myself to take a quick cat nap first and then study for the rest of
the day when I’m replenished with new energy.

My
body eagerly rests like it’s been deprived for weeks, maybe months, savoring
every precious minute of it. It doesn’t
take long for me to reach REM state. I’m
in a peaceful sleep coma until an alarming sensation of wet fingers lightly grasping
my right ankle seizes my attention. It suddenly
kills my brief snooze into relaxation. My
ears are occupied with faint moaning sounds coming from beneath me, not my
earphones. Am I having a hallucinating dream? The exhaustion combine with the heat has
completely overtaken my drained mind, I think to myself. It seems and feels real but is really real? I abruptly open my heavy lids to confirm,
squinting and blinking against the glaring sunlight until I could focus my
burning watery eyes. Horrific screaming from
within me follows without any control. “Oh
my god, oh my god and holy shit! Who or
what the hell is attached to my ankle?”

There’s an unconscious man lying prone on his
abdomen with his right hand attached to my ankle. I can’t see his face or chest to determine if
he’s still breathing or not. I’m hoping
and praying that he’s not dead. I
quickly pull my quivering right leg away from him and hug both my legs tightly against
my chest. My body is defenselessly rocking
back and forth. “God, why me? Why now?”
My mind runs for its wits but my body remains stationary and dumfounded.

“Cool
it Lily and put yourself together!” I mentally
slap myself, gather my sanity and immediately crawl to his side to assess his
condition. I flip him over onto his back
and remove his lifejacket to release his body from its confine. His face is covered with sand so I gently finger
stroke it off his cheeks and forehead. My
heart unexpectedly flutters with desire from the sight of his alluring face. Where is this coming from? I shake my head several times to brush off
this ridiculous attraction. I lift my
blanket off the ground, shake the sand loose and prop his head up with it. Then I exert all my might to roll his heavy body
into a recovery position and obtain his pulse rate and vital signs. “Thank Jesus, he’s alive!” The man is suffering from dehydration. I quickly call my assigned hospital to send
an ambulance over for his rescue.

I sit
by his backside to wait for the paramedics while maintaining a vigil watch over
his weaken body. My heart hasn’t stop
hammering since I first encounter this stranger. It’s crucial for me to regain control of my madness. This man needs my professional care. This is what I’m trained to do.

After
thirty minutes or so, the paramedics arrive with their emergency kit. They lay his frail body on the stretcher and quickly
start an IV. They transport him into the
ambulance and insist I drive in the back with them to the hospital. I’ve never ridden in one before. The ride is jerky, which is to be expected,
due to the horrible road conditions as well as incoming traffic. Several times I almost fall forward because
of hasty stops they make for reckless drivers and crazy pedestrians. The loud siren continuously blares in my
ears…I’ll definitely have this annoying ring in my head for several days to
come.

His
sun-chapped lips beg for my attention. I
wipe a moist towel over them, pealing his lips apart. He responds to it by lightly licking the
moisten path with his tongue. I hear him
softly mumble something under his breath but it’s incomprehensible. Is he trying to tell me something? Why do I have this lustful desire in my gut
as I watch him trace his sensual tongue along his lower lip? Again, I’m guilty of admiring his lean defined
face which is heavily covered with dark bristles. What am I doing? I force these forbidden thoughts out of my
head and continue to monitor him for signs of progress.

We
thoroughly inspect all his pockets for any form of identification. There is nothing but his initials ‘C.B.’ on
his platinum cufflinks that distinguishes him.
His costly designer suit is perfectly tailored to conform to his fine
body. I also notice an expensive gold
watch on his left wrist. One of the
ambulance guys makes a repulsive comment about his Rolex watch costing over
$75,000.00. Wow, I can’t imagine anyone
crazy enough to spend that much money on a small watch. He has no wedding band on his ring finger. And why am I checking for his eligibility status?

Right
away, I fabricate a quick personal assessment of him, persuading myself to
forget these unexplainable desires. He’s
probably arrogant, self-centered and enjoys an affluent lifestyle. Everything is catered to him. He’s not married therefore he has commitment
issues. This incident has perhaps sabotaged
his plans of meeting one of his many swimsuit model girlfriends. He has a different flavor for all his
needs. He never lacks the company of a
beautiful woman. I’m willing to put my money
on this fact.

I have
a character flaw of judging people based on their materialistic appearances-
similar to those who stereotype people with tattoos. It’s a terrible trait that I’ve inherited from my
mother. I’m not proud of it. Many unanswered questions flood my mind about
this mysterious man as I sit and stare at his languished body and striking face. Even though he’s not my type, why am I drawn
to him? Not that I have any guidelines
for the perfect type. I think to myself.

We
finally arrive at the hospital and he’s quickly transferred to a private
room. Since his identity is unknown, the
hospital has maintained the highest level of confidentiality for him. Two eager female nurses begin to remove his dampened
clothes, first the jacket, then his vest and dress shirt and finally his pants
and boxers. I catch myself examining his
gloriously lean, muscular, naked body in an unprofessional manner as I
nervously bite my thumb nail. I secretly
yearn to walk over to his side and trace my fingers along his entire body, not
sparing any areas. He is endowed in both
length and girth, I shamefully note.

I’m disappointed
when they quickly dress his distracting ripped, athletic-type body with a unisex
hospital gown. Where is all this lust coming
from? Am I finally experiencing my
suppressed teenage hormones? Seriously,
I need a good smack to knock some sense back into me. I eventually
convince myself to smother these crazy, erotic, mental thoughts and resume my
role of assistant attending resident.

I walk
over to his bed and examine him closely.
He is indeed a fine-looking male specimen. Stop it!
I place my two fingers on his radial artery and obtain his pulse rate,
55. I assume he works out from his
healthy rate and his perfect muscle tone.
There I go again losing my train of thought. I quickly release his wrist and step away
from his bed. I think I better let the
nurse complete his physical assessment.
I’m not thinking straight. For
reasons I can’t understand, this man is slowly breaking down my invincible barrier I’ve worked years to build and reinforce.

Dr.
Stanford, the lead physician, orders a comprehensive lab workup for my mystery
man after the nurse reported her evaluation.
He responds well with continuous
IV fluids. I decide to keep my distance
from him, only observing his condition from his medical chart. I would hate for Dr. Stanford to witness my
unprofessional gawking of our patient.
Besides, I’m not quite ready to face him when he becomes conscious.

I leave
specific orders with the nursing staff. He
is to remain rested in bed and to personally call me if there are any notable
changes. This isn’t standard practice,
of course. But then I’ve never been
irrational attracted to any patient or man before. I’m usually in a hurry to leave the hospital
but not this evening. I long to be near
C.B., a nickname I gave this mystery man, obviously from a distance. But unfortunately, other obligations are
waiting for me back at school. I have
three lecture classes to attend, starting early tomorrow morning. “School must come first.” I remind myself.

I’ll
attend my classes and swing by tomorrow afternoon to visit him. This will give me an entire day to prepare
myself for our first face to face encounter.
I have to be confident and professional.
I cannot allow him to see my weakness for him. I give myself a 'go team Lily' pep talk.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

We finally
arrived at our destination. Richard’s
GPS system declares. The opulent
building appears to be an old historical castle transformed into an aristocratic
medical school. It’s secretly hidden
away, high on a cliff, overgrown with luscious tropical foliage, vines and
trees. The entire perimeter is guarded
with a massive wrought iron and stone fence while the entrance is safely
secured by two attendants in official red uniforms. The grounds are beautifully maintained with many
distinctive flowering plants and hand sculpted boxwood bushes. A colossal water fountain with three ornate mermaid
statues takes center stage in front of the school. This is to be my home for the next five
incredible years…I can’t imagine my life getting much better than this!

I’m drawn to the magical fountain. I stroll up to its’ stone rim and set my
bottom down. I place my hand in the
clear cool water and wade it back and forth.
I have a strong impulse to make a self-indulgent wish. I think I have a few coins in my side pocket. Here they are. I dig them out, chant “I wish for success and
happy endings.” and toss them in. Richard
taps my right shoulder from behind and my reverie comes to a halt. He acquainted himself with several other new
medical students and must have discovered the location of my dormitory.

“Lillian,
we’ll be cohabitating the same building!” is what he excitedly tells me. “In fact, our rooms are just down the hall
from each other.”

“That’s
great Richard!” I pretend to also be thrilled.
But this is far from the truth. School hasn’t commenced and I’m already plagued
with a handsome male diversion on my hands.
This accelerated medical program has a severe reputation for its intensity.
I can’t allow myself to get off track
before I even start. My entire future
depends on how well I do here.

Richard leads the way to our dormitory. I follow behind his trail of two large
luggage. He’s well equipped in
comparison to my single medium size suitcase.
I’m probably the most minimalistic girl in the world. Even with his hands full, Richard
considerately insists on helping me with mine.

“I can get that for you.
I’ll throw yours on top of mine.”

I
teasingly tell him, “This little mute can handle her own shit, thank you very
much!”

I’ve
learned to manage myself efficiently ever since I was a young toddler. My mother worked long hours to make ends meet
so I adapted independently. I never ask
for any help unless I absolutely needed it.

“I get
it, Miss Independent.” He grins. “Will
you meet me for dinner then?” he inquires.

“Um…sure.” I can’t
seem to discourage this persistent man.
I hesitantly agree to dinner. This
will give me an opportunity to explain to him why school is my only priority
for now.

We
push all of our luggage into the elevator and ride it up to the 10th
floor. I wonder what the weight limit is
for this car. My fear of height is getting
the best of me. My palms are
sweaty. I’m hoping the elevator will not
drop us. The doors open just in the nick
of time before I go into full-blown panic attack. We haul our suitcases out and head down the
hallway in opposite directions. I solely
drag mine to room# 1008.

The door to my dorm room opens before I’m able
to insert my card into the key slot. I
see a pair of arms reaching out to me, offering a warm welcoming bear hug. And then I see the rest of her. She energetically introduces herself with an
enthusiastic high-pitched voice.

“Hi, I’m
Amelia McFarland from London, England, your new roomie!”

“Nice
to meet you, I’m Lillian Ly from the U.S.”
I reply with only a quarter of her energy level.

The Brit
coincidences I have encountered within one day are uncanny. She has the most beautiful shade of scarlet
red, silky straight hair that flows freely pass her shoulder blades. She stands a few inches shorter than me with a
bust line that both men and women can really appreciate. Her skin is fair with strawberry freckles on
the bridge of her nose and along her high cheek bones. I catch myself coveting her dreamy greenish
brown eyes. Amelia’s friendly
personality makes her approachable.
She’s laidback and low maintenance.
I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate choice.

We
settle into our separate sides of the room.
There are two overstuffed upholstered chairs with their backs to each other
in the middle of the room and two antiquish dark-hardwood desks by a beautiful stained
glass window. The full size beds are equipped
with fancy vivid colored bedding. It’s
delightful to have a nicely decorated college dormitory room. I pinch myself to make sure this isn’t some fantasy
dream I’m having. Everything I’ve
encountered about this place has been surreal.
I let my listless body sink deep into my super comfy new bed and exhale
an appreciative breath.

I unpack
my belongings, and neatly place them in my personal closet. There’s plenty of room left over since I
didn’t pack a whole heck of a lot of things.
I set a graduation picture of me with my mother and two best friends on
top of my desk. I also pull out my lucky
fortune and lay it next to the frame.
Now I think I’m ready to call this place home.

Who
could possibly be knocking on our door? Amelia
jumps off her bed and clumsily stumbles over her feet to open it. Richard is standing at the doorway entrance
looking particularly charming in dark slacks and a light ivory linen shirt. He
holds a fancy bottle of champagne in his left hand. Perspiration drips along the sides of it,
indicating that it has been properly chilled and ready for drinking.

“May I
come in ladies? I have a welcoming gift
to christen your dorm room.” He leans
his broad shoulder against the wooden doorframe. He’s a tall lengthy man. Both Amelia and I are appreciating the same handsome
view from different angles.

Amelia
bashfully smiles and turns a magnificent shade of cerise blush while walking
him into our room. He hands me the
bottle and it’s chilled, just as I speculated.

“I
have a special place in mind to take you for dinner tonight.”

Oh holy crap, he hasn’t forgotten my dinner acceptance. I quickly include Amelia to help ease the pressure
of having dinner alone with him.

“Amelia,
wouldn’t you love to join us for dinner at Richard’s special place?” I hopefully
ask, giving her pleading eyes.

“I
wish I could but I have a farewell dinner date with my parents.” Amelia seems sincerely disappointed that
she’s unable to come with us, but Richard is rather relieved instead. He has a triumphant smile on his face.

Richard
escorts me to an extravagant restaurant targeted for the upper class tourists,
of course. I look around this elaborate
establishment and find myself extremely underdressed and completely out of
place. Most of the women are wearing
elegant evening gowns. And I’m simply adorned
in a black cotton dress, the only one that accompanied me to this island.

“Richard,
why didn’t you tell me I needed to wear something fancier?” It wouldn’t have made any difference, I
guess. I have nothing fancier than what
I’m already wearing.

“You look absolutely stunning. It’s the person, not the dress that matters
to me.” How nice of him to pay me this sweet
compliment. But unfortunately, I still feel
like an odd piece that doesn’t fit into this perfect puzzle.

We sit
outside on the terrace with a remarkable view of the tranquil cerulean water. The waves are entrancing. My eyes are locked in a wistful daze. I soak in the most amazing sunset full of
warm cinnamon gold and vermilion jewel tones.
The unpleasant humidity is still present but there’s a calm, constant,
cool breeze that balances the evening’s atmosphere. The food is a perfect blend of Caribbean and
Mediterranean influence. My taste buds fondly
relish the palatable infusion. An
aromatic sweet crisp wine perfectly complements our meals. I’m careful to take only a few mini sips. I’m not much of a drinker…a total light
weight is what I am…so it doesn’t take much to influence me.

I have
to admit, I am enjoying it all very much…maybe too much. The ambience is truly romantic and my company
isn’t Mr. Average Joe. He’s charismatic and
fetching. It would be fairly easy to get
lost in the moment. But not for me…I’m
too determined to allow myself to stray.
I mentally caution myself to keep things simple between us. He playfully reaches for my wrist and adjusts
my bracelet so the smooth pink lava stones are facing upward.

“I see
you’re still wearing my priceless bracelet.
I’m honored.” He acknowledges
with delight as he tenderly brings my hand up to his warm soft lips. The hairs on my body rise from the sensation of
our intimate contact. I’ve never been
this close to a man before. Hayden
doesn’t count because we were just immature teenagers.

“It’s
one of the few pieces of jewelry I own.
I appreciate the caring gesture it represents.” I openly disclose my feelings with him.

Slowly,
I retrieve my hand and considerately thank him for a wonderful dinner. “Richard, I appreciate your sincere friendship
but this is all I can commit to at this point in my life. School has always been my first
priority. This will not change until I
become a physician. I know you can
understand where I’m coming from. I see
you as a charitable and kindhearted man.
I personally witnessed it today. I
hope I don’t hurt your feelings in any way.” I regretfully tell him.

“I do understand. And this is why you’re unique from all the
rest. Your heart is pure and
generous.” He sweetly responds.

I commend
him for handling my offer graciously, not pushing me further and creating
uneasiness between us. We conclude the
evening sharing more personal stories and getting to know each other as friends over coffee and dessert. The awkwardness slowly fades.

Richard
has the same passion as his mother and me.
He wants to use his medical degree to aid those who are less
fortunate. His mother had a deprived
beginning. Her parents struggled in the
projects to raise five kids. They had no
health insurance or extra money for anything.
She pushed herself to succeed in school and swore she would help people
like herself whenever and wherever she could.
Richard and his siblings were taught to be humble by accompanying her on
missionary trips to foreign countries like Africa and Asia. He was forced to witness poor and sick people
begging for food and sleeping on pitiable streets.

“I’ve
been instilled by my mother to never take anything we’ve been blessed with for
granted. ‘We should share our fortune
with the less fortunate.’ She constantly
reminds me and my siblings.” He speaks respectfully
of his mother. I can see it in his proud
piercing blue eyes.

“Your
mother sounds like an amazing woman. I would
love to meet her one day.” Knowing this
personal side of Richard makes me want to become closer friends with him.

“She
is. Your personality reminds me a lot of
her. I’m sure she would love you at
first sight.” He pays me one last sweet
compliment…

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

My
intuition tells me that Richard would like to become more than just airplane buddies. His eyes secretly study me. I have this shy desire to pull my sweatshirt hood
over my head and hide. This is my
downfall. I have a one-track mind with a single goal
that doesn’t involve boyfriends or complicated relationships. I’m oddly build this way. Why can’t I be a typical, hormonal, twenty-two
year old, young

woman? He’s incredibly attractive,
tall, and lean with thick, wavy blond hair and the deepest sapphire-blue
eyes. His face is lightly dusted with dark
facial hair, along his jawline and around his proportional smooth lips. His sexy smile can stimulate a heart attack
at first sight.

I attentively listen to him as he elaborate on
where he’s from and how he became interested in medicine. He supposedly grew up in Manhattan but went
to a private boarding school in Essex, England for most of his childhood school
years. This explains why he has a hint
of Brit when he speaks. The accent is an
added bonus to his hotness,
especially for me. I love foreign
accents. He has two younger siblings who
are currently at the same private school in Essex. He loves soccer and was a polo team captain
in both high school and college. His father is chief director of cardiovascular
surgery at Debakery’s Heart Healing Center and his mother is an OBGYN who
volunteers much of her time at a neighborhood free health clinic.

His
resume for eligible bachelor is immaculate.
And yet, I only have the tiniest inkling of desire for this perfect man. “What is seriously wrong with me?” I question myself with disbelief. As soon as he completes his condensed autobiography,
he anxiously waits for me to reciprocate, but all I offer him is, “I’m Lillian
M. Ly and I am also a first year medical student.” I see slight disappointment in his seductive
blue eyes. “You are here to become a
doctor!” I remind myself and turn towards the window. I seal my tired bloodshot eyes and end my
brief introduction with Mr. Stevens.

I must
have fallen into a deep and desperately needed sleep because the pilot’s final announcement
wakes me up. “We will be landing into Henry E. Rholsen Airport in approximately
fifteen minutes.” I can’t grasp the
realization that I am really here on this island. Saint Croix is one of the U.S. Virgin
Islands, whose economy is heavily based on tourism. The island boasts many beautiful resorts with
acres of breath-taking beaches and all the amenities of every vacationer’s
dreams. Unfortunately, I will not be one
of those lucky vacationers soaking up the warm Caribbean sun and enjoying all
the fine five-star dining. Instead, I
will be studying and laboring many long hours at the local hospitals.

I grab my black SwissGear backpack from the
overhead compartment. Richard chivalrously
directs me in front of him with his free hand.
As we exit the aircraft, he courteously insists that I ride with him to
the dormitory.

“I
don’t think it’s safe for a pretty young lady to use local bus transportation
in uncharted territory. My parents have
prearranged for a vehicle to be waiting here for me.”

“Thank
you for being unnecessarily considerate when you hardly even know me.” I’m sure I would be fine riding the local bus
but why chance it?

“It’s no
big deal. We’re both heading to the same
place.”

The minute
we step outside the confines of the cool aircraft, the heat and humidity unexpectedly
assaults our bodies. Sweat droplets
slowly form and increase in number as I frustratingly wipe them off with my
sleeves. I urgently peel away my sweatshirt,
hoping it might decrease my body temperature but it’s pointless. This heat is nothing like I’ve experienced
back home. It will take some adjusting
to embrace this new tropical climate.

“There
he is! I see a man dressed in a dark
navy suite with ‘Stevens’ written on a sign.”
Richard points out and waves his hand for the man to acknowledge us.

Thank
god he spots him quickly. We gladly make
our way towards his driver as I continue to dab new perspiration off my
forehead. My maroon and white I.U. sweatshirt
now serves a different purpose. Richard attentively
offers to take my backpack for me but I graciously decline. I’m Miss Independent, not too keen on being
catered to.

“Hello
Mr. Stevens. Welcome to St. Croix. I’m Benton.”
He politely greets Richard and offers him a welcoming handshake.

“Thank
you for your promptness, Benton.”

Our larger
luggages are taken to another vehicle.
The man guides us to a gleaming silver BMW Z5 and bestows Richard a key
fob for his new ride.

“Your parents
have taken care of everything. All you
need to do is enjoy this fabulous car. Feel
free to call me for any other needs, Mr. Stevens. I live conveniently close to your school.” He beams us both with a friendly smile.

“Thanks
for the offer, Benton. I will keep you
in mind.”

The
sight of his expensive sports car instantly alters my mood. I blame my mother’s unhappiness on other
people’s greed for capital gain. Her
father and husband both betrayed her for money.
Therefore, excessive wealth has become a sensitive issue for me. I equate abundant fortune with misery.

Richard
saunters around to the passenger side to open and close the door for me. The engine purrs up smoothly. We both welcome
the refreshing cool air from the car’s vent as it blows life back into our
dehydrated bodies. Our seatbelts are
buckled and Richard’s deep, sexy, British accented voice activates the GPS with
our destination. We’ll be there in about
fifty-five minutes according to the navigation calculation.

Richard’s
eyes remain cautiously focused on the dangerously winding road. Occasionally, he’d sneak a glance here and
there over at me. I pretend not to
notice and remain reserved. I am
mesmerized by the scenic views of long stretches of aqua blue water and
pristine white sandy beaches. I stare
out into the distant horizon and see beautiful yachts and even several titanic cruise
ships. The land is painted with lush
tropical green plants full of vibrant colorful blooms. I welcome the smell of saltiness from the
water combined with moist humid air. This
kind of luxury is novel and extremely captivating to me. I come from a modest family that has no opportunities
for vacations to beautiful paradises like this.

The
breathtaking ocean views gradually disappear as we drive deeper into an impoverished
and underprivileged part of the town. The
lush vegetation land is now replaced with dry desert and cactus plants. I’m speechless. The homes are modest and the people are meekly
dressed. I see little children running
around in tattered sandals in the streets with filthy animals. They
appear content even with so little. People
migrate to our car with handmade trinkets and fruits, pleading us to buy from them. It makes me humble and blessed to have what I
have after witnessing this. Richard buys
a handful of dainty bracelets with pink, polished, lava stones from several of
the vendors. He also gives a few small
bills to the surrounding children. I had
misjudged him altogether. He’s generous
and kind-hearted, not typical of his kind.
I stow my unbending facade and share a rare
vulnerable side of me with him.

“Richard, this is why I want to become a
physician. I want to care for sick
people who can’t afford medical help. Everyone
deserves to be healthy.”

Completely
caught off guard from my openness, he turns to face me and intently looks into
my eyes. “Those who know much speak
little and those who bullshit all the time knows little. It’s my version of an old Chinese Proverbs.” He grins and clasps the newly bought bracelet
around my wrist. “A simple bracelet for an
intricate lady.” He winks his right eye
at me along with that killer smile that exposes his dazzling white teeth. My face is probably a shade shy of being deep crimson. I feel the unnerving tension build around my
shoulders and neck from blushing. I bashfully
turn away from him to face the window and secretly smile to myself while
twirling my new bracelet around my wrist.

Once
again, we continue our drive in serene silence passing more beautiful views of
the blue ocean water and lush green tropical trees. Richard is preoccupied in his own world while
I mindlessly take in my new surroundings.
The radio is softly playing in the background while he lightly drums his
fingers and bops his head to the rhythm.
It’s hardly audible until the song, ‘Don’t
Worry, Be Happy,’ captures our attention. We both hum simultaneously.

“Bobby
Mcferrin fan are you?” I ask him with a
quirky smile.

“Who
doesn’t love this mindless song? It
makes everyone happy.”

“So true.” I nod my head.

He starts
to sing the song’s catchy lyrics in a sexy reggae/British accent. I surprise him by joining in. We laugh and giggle uncontrollably as we insert
our own lyrics to the song about medical school. It seems silly and immature but for a brief
moment, I permit myself to be carefree and youthful. I’m having a good time and I love it. The remaining trip passes quickly once we’re
able to speak openly and the rigid barrier is broken down. And so we begin our new found friendship with
a trivial song…

About Me

By
profession, she’s technical and structured, but by choice, she enjoys being
creative and spontaneous. Writing gives her the freedom to be whatever or
wherever she wants to be as her mind takes her on adventures as far as her
imagination can reach. When she’s not off on one of her writing journeys, her
time is split among her two adorable little girls, her supportive husband,
family, friends and an extremely rewarding job of caring for cancer patients.